


The Forsworn Death of Hanzo Shimada

by Moonlit_Streets



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, McHanzo - Freeform, References to Depression, Sad, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 16:04:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20978627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlit_Streets/pseuds/Moonlit_Streets
Summary: The familiar tune rang out and opened a wound in one of the taverns occupant’s chest-the pain itself was too old to be new; too new to be old. A peculiar thing, if you asked him. Still, as that recurring, familiar bassline bellowed and the gentle melody twirled over the top, the man’s mind pushed back to older days. Days that were simpler and almost gentle, after the cowboy, Jesse McCree, had found love.





	The Forsworn Death of Hanzo Shimada

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to sad music for the best effect lol
> 
> The music that Jesse is listening to is The Roost from Animal Crossing Wild World. I also initially listened to that while writing hahah. Who know such a depressing story could come from such a sweet song!
> 
> Please check out some of my other work if you would like! Kudos, comments and questions are welcomed and very much appreciated! 
> 
> Thanks, Bex

The familiar tune rang out and opened a wound in one of the taverns occupant’s chest-the pain itself was too old to be new; too new to be old. A peculiar thing, if you asked him. Still, as that recurring, familiar bassline bellowed and the gentle melody twirled over the top, the man’s mind pushed back to older days. Days that were simpler and almost gentle, after the cowboy, Jesse McCree, had found love.  
Tragedies happen, especially in their line of work (the leftover lover had seen too many comrades fall to never get back up) but the story of Hanzo Shimada just felt worse somehow. A man who was so close to recovery after years of shitty apartments, shitty hiding places, shitty fake identities and a final grasp at romance just had to be the one who got a lead bullet stuck in his chest. Well, several. Poisoned. Bullets. The one mission without an excess of healers; the one mission which would be Hanzo’s last. 

He remembered the final moments. That was an awful lotta blood, crimson staining just about everything: funny how one bullet could make such a mess. There was a brief moment of crying and apologies and then their last kiss. As messy as they come; perfect in its warmth and touch and feeling and pleasure. And then their promise.  
“Jesse…” faint words, breathy and singed with pain. “Promise me that you won’t become what I did,”  
All that blood and more spilt onto the floor.  
“Tell me you’ll-” a pained pause, “Tell me you’ll be happy. For me,”  
Jesse rapidly shook his head, muddy eyes filled with a new set of fresh, bitter tears. “I can’t be happy! D-Darling, we were supposed to be married and retire and-and live away from all this goddamned fighting for once in both of our lives… I can’t be happy w-without you- “  
Hanzo hushed Jesse so quickly, shaking his head.  
“This…This is an honourable death, one I’ve-desired for years,” he suddenly started to well up. “That I thought I wanted. Oh fuck, I don’t want to die!”  
The sudden realisation dawned upon Hanzo’s face too soon. The realisation that he finally-after years of self-pity and self-loathing-didn’t want to die. He supposed those thoughts were the kind you would find on death’s door: the real desire in life.  
“I wanted to grow old with you Jesse,” he smiled suddenly, falling into delirium. “I can see my wedding hakama…like my fathers, usually black: this one is white. Like you wanted. And you still have that bright belt buckle. But a white hat. White shirt,” Hanzo’s face fell again. Life and energy suddenly slipped away too quickly. “We will marry on a…a beautiful day. My brother will be best man. In winter. White wedding: true love. I love you Jesse,”  
And just like that, Hanzo’s body went limp leaving a screaming cowboy in his wake.  
By the time he had stopped screaming, been pulled away, been subdued, Hanzo was long dead. The medics truly had tried their best, doing everything they could. Digging out the bullet, sealing the wound, blood transfusion, everything. Even the best of technology couldn’t bring him back. Dead was dead.  
A beautiful funeral, of course. In Japan. Oh god, there weren’t many people there but it was the most beautifully tragic funeral one could ever see or imagine. Everything white or cream or gold with a gorgeous accented blue. There were so many tears. Even from a robot brother, who everyone thought couldn’t cry.

Back to the present, Jesse sighed, wiping a tear quickly, pushing the brim of his white Stetson just a little further over his eyes. “Hide your emotions, cowboy,” the deep, dead, accented tenor rumbled in the back off his mind. He wanted you to be happy, Jesse reminded himself as he looked at the whisky glass, filled with a deep liquid and bundle of ice. Wallowing in his own sadness, depressed and becoming an alcoholic like Hanzo was hardly met the criteria of self-care.  
Would Hanzo hate him for who he was now? Absolutely not. Would he help Jesse-be there through the sadness and hopelessness? Absolutely. Would he be warm on the coldest, longest night of the year? Of course.  
But he wasn’t. And he never would be again. He would never get to hear that piano melody ever again.  
Desperately, Jesse shook off the sadness, swallowed his pain. As he tossed some coins to the counter, he sniffled quietly and left to the cold, cold air of the night.  
It would have been so much warmer with you.


End file.
